Dust to Dust
by redrosewolfess
Summary: Clarke was never on the Ark. Instead she was born on Earth – merely a year after her sister Anya. By their kins' rule of matriarchy, her sister ascended to the throne and Clarke took her place as Anya's champion by the young age of 17. However, things change quickly when the sky-people fall to the Earth, and Clarke is tasked with protecting their tribes. Bellarke. Rated T. AU-ish.
1. Prologue

I remember the day that my sister, Anya, granted me my place by her side – a warrior to be, and an honor. It was a rite of passage for my kin, but being the daughter of our own Princess – now Queen - was no laughing matter. Amongst our people on the Earth, we must slay a predator to become one ourselves. To feast upon our own kills, because that is what they would do to us if given the chance. Kill or be killed – it is nothing new, and despite being a healer, I can embrace that hard truth now. I think.

Anya and her guard followed me no further than the gate, for this was my own mission to be done alone. The prints on the forest floor were my guide, five-toed and fresh in the ground. I knew it was a beast, a predator, with claws and fangs that would tear me to shreds just as my knife would do to them. Fear accompanied by adrenaline coursed through my veins as the beast fell into my line of vision. My dark furs acted as camouflage in the canopy of trees, also masking my human scent with that of prey. It was enough to make the four legged beast raise its dog-like snout to the air, sniffing the air with eagerness that could only be seen from a hunter. I crouched, waiting for it to pounce at me – to try and pierce my neck with her fangs…and so the wolf tried.

Her gray furs were visible as she circled behind me, planning to sink her fangs into my leg for a quick kill…but that was a fatal mistake. It was like being on auto pilot: my body crouched to face the wolf and she in turn stood upon my torso. Sharp claws dug painfully through my furs, but in return my dagger had made its mark in a quick movement. My knife was buried within the side of her neck, severing her wind pipe and leaving the wolf to twitch on the ground. As the wolf took her final breaths, I hummed a song of sorrow and strength, stroking her fur until she passed on. The wolf was a formidable foe, and that was something worthy of respect and honor.

My kins' camp was not far – and lugging the body proved eventful due to my minor wounds, but there was no denying the pride that swelled in my chest at the stares of my kin at the sight of my return. At Anya's feet, I laid the she-wolf down, kneeling with my eyes glancing at the wolf's own yellow eyes for only a moment. That moment quickly passed, and my gaze turned to my sister's eyes – a sign of my own strength and respect for my Princess and dearest sister.

With a nod, Anya acknowledged me – gesturing to the she-wolf by her feet. "My kin!"

Screams and shouts of pleasure echoed across the group, their eyes alight with fiery excitement.

"Our Fang has slayed the she-wolf! Our warrior has returned with the marks of a beast. Let it be known that her wounds are of strength are worthy. Our warriors are brave: they face their fear and never run!" Anya's hand held the claw of the wolf before digging it into the bare skin of my arm: marking my first kill as a true warrior. With pride, she grasped my forearm, pulling me up to her side as the ending ceremony was spoken with revelry as the blood dripped from my mark. "She has slayed her demons with the life given to her. My sister!"

Anya's hazel eyes pierced down on me with a stare that resonated pride and glory before she gestured with her fox-fur glove, commanding me to stand and face our people. My blue eyes showed no weakness, only pride, as I stood tall in front of them: wearing my bloody wounds with the pride expected of me. "I honor my Queen with my life until the day I die, my will is hers, and her will is mine. My name is Clarke Griffin, and I am your Champion."

A/N. So here goes my first story...i'm not sure what to think about it yet so I would love feedback on my writing, the general plot that I just introduced here. Suggestions, questions, whatever you have for me! I plan on updating regularly, but there will be more info to come - truthfully this will depend on how long it takes for me to be happy with a chapter (I don't like to do the 'if I get this many reviews, i'll post thing). I will tell you that chapter 1 is almost done though! Thank you for reading!


	2. Chapter 1 - Dawn of a New Age

Chapter 1 – Dawn of a New Age

_**A/N: I tried out some world building here, and I hope the story is flowing as clear and concise as I tried to make it! As always, I do not own this wonderful show or its characters. Please send me feedback in reviews! I would like to know how I could modify this chapter and future chapters to make it better! Also I feel like I am using the word "I" too much, but often times I can't figure out a better word to use. It's such a common word…maybe there's no avoiding it! Also if anyone knows how to add the page break line between the author's note and the story, please let me know! Enjoy the story! :)**_

Clarke's Journal:

The marking of a Champion among my people is always met with revelry, but for me it is a bitter experience. Only when a Champion falls can a new one rise…yet we have been without our Champion for several months, until now. A Champion takes the Queen's will and forms as the bridge between her and the people – unless she takes matters into her own hands. My father was the last one to hold the title: and while he was strong, he always used his mind over his strength (which he had also). That makes me his legacy in more ways than one, but this gives me no privileges. Anya told me that the people would hold doubts until I prove myself in this role. It always happens among us. I don't know what to think, yet, despite knowing that I would become a Champion days ago. So that makes me a Princess and a Champion…and now I have a status that stands just below my Queen and her consort – if she ever claims one as her own.

There were many things that my eldest sister Anya and I shared, but our father was not one of them. Our mother was Abagail – Queen of our people and the only Queen in our history to have chosen her lover as a Champion. There's not a day that goes by that I wish my father was here, but I'm meant to be stronger than those thoughts. I can get by without him…and without my mother, despite that she still lives – and is responsible for my father's death. That was the day we abandoned our old camp, taking whatever we could carry with us. I don't like to remember that day…

The page was blotted with a few wet drops, and no more words were written as Clarke wiped the moisture from her eyes: today the people would test her – tears would only shame her Queen, making her seem weak for choosing a weak Champion. I knew that the journal would prove useful, but if it was discovered it might make me seem weaker as it held my most intimate thoughts. It was well hidden within my home: built of nothing but wood, animal fabrics, and the art that my hands created. –making a map of them as best I could with mashed berries and sometimes charcoal, if I was lucky enough. Maps of the stars covered the ceiling and walls of this new home: many of which were created from berry juices or charcoal (if I was lucky enough to find some). Perhaps having larger quarters (customary of being a Champion) would allow me more room for my works. The day was still young though, and thus I left my oddly spacious residence to walk amongst the people.

The village, simple in its design, was much more permanent then our previous home. It, and the people who lived here, were a community. Everyone has a role, whether they were a gatherer, hunter, builder, farmer, or any other trade we needed. Our people were resilient because they would become what was needed to live without complaint – yet we still had a vibrant creativity among us. We have passions – things that some might consider unnecessary like dancing, singing, experimenting, reading, history, preservation, travelling and so much more. The books of old that we collected told us much of the way our ancestors were and what we could become. Learning this brought a sense of culture among us that I loved. Though we did not have the tools required to create the amazing art, creations, and massive buildings of old – no one desires the past. We have had countless generations to build this life, and for the most part we are content to live this life.

I walk tall and proud through the merchant's district – the smells of wondrous foods cooking by fire pits – our baker enjoyed finding books filled with different recipes. It was probably nothing in comparison to what it was meant to be: but they were delicious regardless. Carpenters were always working on improving our homes for the harsh winters and sometimes creating something lovely for the little ones that ran rampant in the village. The stares of villagers would meet my own as I walked, and without hesitation I would return them: acknowledging their presence with a calm and even happy stare. Some would hand me things – food – for my Queen's breakfast as I walked by: smoked meats and eggs cooked over a fire from the animals we collected for farming. I thanked them, allowing a smile to slip on my features for the briefest of moments before leaving

Anya was sitting within her tent – dressing her body within the leathers and furs that were fit for her status. Her cotton dress was nowhere near the elegance depicted in the books for a Queen, but many suitors sought her for beauty and strength. We warriors wore the same dark leathers, though ours tended to be thicker to better protect ourselves. Underneath this protective clothing, we wore clothing made of cotton – from before the days of nuclear warfare. The attire wasn't particularly scarce, as we constantly found more and more of it in underground bunkers during our scouting missions.

Anya turned to me, her face bare of all war paint yet smudged by grime – her hand gripping my shoulder firmly – nothing but authority in her stance, I noted. She was never terribly affectionate, regardless. "There is much to attend to, sister. As you are my most trusted, I have chosen you to scout. Our kin have seen men from rival clans here, at best their intent is to test us. They have already stolen one of our women and her children. Do what you will with them, so long as they are gone. I will not see any more losses from our people by their hand."

My words were laced with promise and authority. "I will succeed, Anya."

She turned away with a nod of her head and I left moments later: the undertone of her comments was clear. Anya wanted them dead. With daggers strapped to my boots and a 3-pointed spear in my grasp, I slipped the darkened bone mask over my face – staring into the woods that I knew so well before leaving.

It took longer than I thought to find the men who invaded our land, for they had covered their tracks well. Three men were caught in our traps in the early evenings, just as the sun was setting. They dangled from their ankles as I slit their windpipes, glancing into their eyes with a twinge of regret. Orders are orders – I reminded myself – before cutting the bodies loose. Their clothing matched what I had seen of the neighboring tribes, and thus I left their bodies rather close to the village they came from. That village holds an alliance with our own, and perhaps they had heard of my rising to Champion by now. We have long since been known for our strength and resilience as survivors and those who maintain order, yet to remain in power we must prove ourselves. Anya stressed the importance of forgetting my desire to save lives in these matters: my purpose here is to show the consequences of defying an alliance. Silently I slipped a knife out of my boot – slicing 3 marks on my shoulder. It was hardly combat, but I would mark my kills to remember what I have done.

Instead of returning home, I would allow myself the gift of watching the night time skies. Time alone was what I needed, but I couldn't deny the twinge of sadness that I felt as I looked up to the sky – a star streaming through the skies, speaking softly to what lies outside our world – where my father may be.

"Father…is this really right for me? I am loyal to my sister now, yet my heart tells me I'm meant to do different. I am not a killer, yet I can take lives so easily. Is this right? I need…someone. Someone who can understand."

My eyes had only drifted away from the skies for a moment before being drawn back just as quickly. That star I had seen streaming through the sky was on fire, flying towards the ground. It came from the sky, but it was unlike any meteors I had ever seen before! Should I have been terrified? Probably, but I was fascinated instead. The crippling sound of metal hitting the Earth boomed – shaking the Earth moments before the screeching began. It was over as soon as it began – the only signs that something fell from the sky being a cloud of smoke drifting ever-upwards. Instinct demanded that I return to my sister to receive her orders, yet something in me was burning with curiosity. It was wrong, but my legs carried me towards the cloud of steam: a spear clutched tightly in my grasp and exhilaration coursing through my veins.

Nothing would ever be the same here again.


	3. Chapter 2 - Day of Reckoning

**Chapter 2: Day of Reckoning**

_**A/N – Check out the end of the chapter for a somewhat lengthy author's note! As always, I do not own these characters (aside from anyone that I've made up) or the show! :)**_

The sun had risen by the time of my arrival, and I found myself freezing in astonishment at what my eyes saw. Strange square shapes in colors that I knew as red, white, blue, green, and even yellow were painted on the massive metal box. A metal box that was bigger than anything I had ever seen in my life! Surely something must be inside, surely this thing came here for a reason.

The sound of metal creaking jerked me back into consciousness and I cursed my foolish mistake of not crouching down sooner. Fortunately it seemed that no one had seen me. Behind the massive metal panel that opened, I found myself being shocked again. Humans stood there – humans that wore dark colored clothing and had different skin colors! Impossible – but my eyes did not deceive me. No one had believed that the old picture books depicting dark, pale, and tan humans were anything more than fairy tales, yet here they were. One of the tribes in our alliance had several dark-skinned individuals, but I had heard it was because they worked in the mines their whole lives. Others said that they had burnt their skin to give it such a dark appearance. Maybe none of those things were true though - maybe they were just like these people.

The first to touch the ground, a look of pure joy plastered on her face, had extraordinarily long brown hair and somewhat pale skin. After her the others rushed out – exploring the ground around them as if they had never seen it before. Maybe they hadn't; it certainly would not have been the first impossible thing to have happened today. My eyes drifted away from the crowd until I saw a familiar face: a rather muscular, bronze-skinned man with a bone mask hiding his face. This could only mean one thing: my sister had sent our scout, Lincoln, to identify the fallen object. He, just like I, was counting the sky-people and observing them. So far there were about 100 young people running, screaming, and just being…excited. Had they no fear, or were they simply naïve? As I turned to leave, my eyes widened in surprise: an olive-skinned man crouched on the other side of the metal ship, his eyes scanning the sky-people until they met my own.

It took some of my effort to hold back my groan: of all the people here, it just had to be Lincoln, our spy and scout. There was no time for personal grievances and thus I turned to him with an indifferent stare.

"Lincoln – my sister sent you?"

He stiffened. "She sent me to search for you, yet this mission gained priority. The Queen is angry that you did not return to report back to her – and now the sky people…Clar-," he paused at my reproachful glare, "Fang…What are these people doing here?"

"I wouldn't know, Lincoln. They came from the sky and started running around like excited fools. It seems that they have no organization, no leadership…not even a grasp of the dangers they could face."

"Then come with me…tell her that yourself." Lincoln paused, a worried look in his eyes. "The Queen has called the council."

Clarke's eyes widened slightly before a bitter taste filled her mouth. Anya called the council? Wonderful. The council wasn't scheduled to meet for another two weeks, and Clarke feared the worst about Anya's reason for doing so, and the dread in her voice reflected that. "I best not keep her waiting, then."

Even if they exited loudly, the sky-people's raucous laughter would have drowned out any noise that Clarke or Lincoln had made. They had both slid bone masks over their faces upon departure, running swiftly through the lush yet oddly quiet woods. Even the birds in the sky above were not singing as they always did. If the beasts were waiting in fear, anger, and anxiety, Clarke could only imagine what 'harmonious' intentions the Queen had. Such was the case when they neared the village, the gates opened by guards of their own villagers within seconds of her arrival. The common-folk watching with her with fear in their eyes as if they had already seen the Queen lusting for blood. Soldiers from the local villages stood armed at the village gate's posts: spears lined as if they expected retaliation or war at any second. Calling the council so soon had already spread fear of the unknown through the people, and it would only work towards Anya's plans. If only the villagers knew that the things they feared were running around joyously through dangerous woods, whooping and hollaring.

I saw Lincoln trailing just behind me as our tailor – Crow, as he had named himself – draped a dark pelt around my shoulders, made from the very fur of the wolf I slaughtered in cold blood. He was married to our one of our hunters, a ruthless young woman that named herself Indira. My memories of them were fond, though, for they were not much older then I. In my youth, the children had learned together in our teachers' hut and played together by the fire pit whether of royal blood or not. Time had moved on though, and though – and I had no room for friends any longer.

Crow glanced at me, dark eyes holding a silent pride as he stood tall – fastening the crude strings around my neck to hold the pelt over my warrior clothing, speaking in a quiet, hushed tone. "Clarke." I paused – eyes widening at the use of my true name, but I said nothing, and he continued. "I want you to be ready for what is in there. There are some of which you will not be pleased to see – do not let it show. You must be absolute in your convictions and voice and will, but you must not forget our mercy. The people are talking and they fear that our Queen will forget that and act on her lust for blood."

It had not been long since I heard the name given to me at birth, but hearing it from the lips of a friend was pressing a heavy weight against my chest. I already knew that Anya would not allow the sky-people to remain here, but who was I to change her mind? To challenge her opinion would weaken her in the others' eyes. My heart matched Crow's, and despite my better will I would only hope for mercy that I knew would never come. Crow's glance was pleading and I glanced at him, the conflict in my eyes telling him my response. With a tall stance, I walked into the meeting: not looking back to see the anger in his stare: his wife would go to war with me.

Anya sat at the front of the hut upon her throne of redwood, simple in design. If anyone else had sat in that throne, they would never look quite as imposing as she did in this moment. It would have been much nicer to simply stare at Anya and ignore everyone else, but they needed to see my power and that there was no fear within me. The other Council members were otherwise normal to me: four men dressed in leathers decorated with furs and feathers as they saw fit and a woman who dressed quite similarly. It was the next two that dragged a sense of dread from the core of my being: Abagail Griffin (or perhaps Jaha now), Thelonious Jaha and his prince of a son, Wells Jaha. She was loyal to them before the day my father died, and upon her exile she was granted a home with them. Their territory extended much larger than hours because of the many peaceful relations they formed, which was much unlike my tribe's (The Griffin Tribe) treasured honor and warfare.

Regarding my mother and the Jaha tribe, I had a bitter heart: there was love for a mother that I couldn't forget and a hatred that could not be denied. A hatred for allowing my father to die on the battlefield. So I shoved that love and hatred away – again and again: I always would. As soon as my myriad of emotions was contained, I found myself at Anya's side: standing beside her impassively. Lincoln had shadowed me throughout this, being that he had been a constant presence behind me for the past few minutes. The Wells and my mother stared at me and I idly returned their gaze, challenging them, before Anya spoke with an air of finality: effectively ending my challenge.

"As my Champion and Warrior have finally arrived, we can begin. Naturally, you are all welcomed here, though we meet in time of great need. I trust you know by now why you have been gathered. From the skies, a metal box has fallen to our planet within our territory – destroying our woods." Dark eyes swept across the room, judging the leaders' faces briefly, all of whom were silently looking on. "Lincoln, report your findings to the Council."

Lincoln stood in the center of the room and spoke unemotionally. "I travelled by foot to the place where the metal box fell to find that Fang" He nodded his head towards me "was observing the newcomers as well – "Several pairs of eyes shifted to me briefly, and others – like my mothers' – had been staring me down for much longer. "There are 100 people that fell from the sky in a metal box, yet as of now they are uncoordinated. Energetic. Running around the woods as if they are unthreatened. There are more men than woman. At the end of my observations, a small group seemed to be heading towards the Mountain Men. More observation is needed, but they appear to be easily killable at this time."

My voice was dry, almost gravelly, as I spoke to the room. "I confirm his report. There was not much to see amongst the sky-people."

That was all Anya wanted to hear as her eyes lit in excitement. "I thank you for your report, Lincoln…Fang. We should make haste: they are invaders in our land, and we will not tolerate that."

Many of the villages were smaller and at our mercy, thus they would avoid conflicting their protector, yet both Anya and I expected the inevitable resistance from Thelonious Jaha. "Do you think we can just kill in cold blood before they have even posed a threat to us?"

"They came from the sky into our land. When they come to kill us, do you think they will share your mercy?"

"They could help us – they're just another tribe that could help us – trade with us. Live with us, even."

Anya's eyes glinted with humor. "They _could, _Thelonious." His name was spoken cruelly. "You acknowledge that war is just as possible. What could we possibly trade with them for?"

He didn't back down from her jibe as the other council members looked on. "Medical supplies, food, warriors, protection. The list is endless."

"All things that we already have. If anything, the simpletons would need our help more then we need theirs. They will be trading us useless things: we would be giving away precious resources just to feed 100 more useless mouths while they build their own camp."

"Helping them in the short term would lead to long term benefits. That is how this council started."

The other council members looked to Anya as she stood – aggression in her stance. Anyone who knew Anya well enough knew what her next play would be. "Then I will make a proposal, Thelonious. One that should please all of us. We will observe these sky-people with my own scouts, and yours as well if you should choose to spare them for this task. Reports will be shared amongst us for one month's time. Once this grace period ends, we will decide on their fate. The only exception to this grace periods' length will be if they initiate an act of war against us. Is this fair enough for your tastes?"

The others had nodded their heads briefly until all but Thelonious had yet to nod his head. His eyes held distrust for her proposition, yet he nodded his head.

My Queen was pleased as she too nodded her head, clapping her hands together with something akin to glee (personally I would describe it as bloodlust). "Then we have nothing left to discuss. The council will meet again shortly, I'm certain. Fang, walk with me. We will speak in my quarters."

My sister and I had left before all others – the curtains parted by the guards for us as we walked briskly. Crow was still there, looking at me with an unreadable expression, though I imagined that he still held fear in his chest. Rightfully so, because war would come. It was already written in Anya's bloodlust. In the way she walked and spoke…in the way she entered her quarters and spoke with nothing but pride and savagery. Those seemed to be the only times that she was truly happy to see me.

"Was that not wonderful, sister? They are all merely pawns rolling in the palm of my hand!"

As always, I said what she intended to hear. "Wonderful indeed, my Queen."

"You are short of praise today, it seems. No matter though, I have things to discuss with you, orders more specifically. Lincoln!" Lincoln – a guard outside of the tent – stepped inside. Anya sat at the pelt-covered table, gesturing for us to do the same – speaking in a hushed tone. There was no telling who might be listening to her words besides Lincoln and I. "If we are to have war and remove these pests, then there must be sacrifices. They must have a reason to kill some of our people. They must wage war upon us soon, thus they must be provoked into doing so. I don't care how you do it, just see that it is done. Quietly. No one else but Lincoln may help you. Do you understand?"

A nod…and silence from Lincoln. "I understand, and I will succeed. You will have your war."

"Then you are dismissed. Have a lovely day, Fang – Lincoln."

Anya turned away, and thus we did as well, departing the tent moments later. I felt the weight of my task on my shoulders and yet I already knew there was nothing I could do to stop it. So I distracted myself the only way I knew how: by grabbing my spear – I would start my assignment now.

"Lincoln - " He stood outside the doorway of my quarters, watching me intently, but he wasn't the only one. My mother was there, staring at me with a pleading look in her eyes.

"Clarke – "

"Fang" I interrupted.

She deflated at that, but continued on stubbornly. "…Fang. You're going to start a war, aren't you."

I froze. She knew already – and if she knew, who else did? My hand was slowly creping towards my dagger before she spoke again.

"Just – let me talk. Walk with me."

She was trying to lower my guard…and it was working, the vulnerability in my eyes – and my voice. I hated that part. "Lincoln…wait here."

We walked, my mother trailing behind me with her hands folded over the quaint blue shirt and black pants for the next half hour of walking before I turned to her. We were out of earshot…and I was amazed that she would let me take her away from safety. "Are you here to stop me?"

"Have I ever been able to before?"

"If you aren't going to stop me, then why are you here?"

"Because Anya is making a mistake by threatening this peace."

"Don't you think I know that?"

"I know you do. I also know that you think you cannot defy her."

"Because I can't. You should know that better than any."

I expected her to wince, but she continued on. "You think that your father never defied me? Never challenged my opinions?"

"If he had, then he wouldn't be dead now. He wouldn't have fought in a war that you started! Who are you to tell me not to fight for my Queen?" I was yelling by now, and my mother held a sadness in her eyes. A sadness that held weight in her voice.

"Who better than I, then, to speak of what's wrong? I've made mistakes."

"You never had to pay the price for them! I did. Anya did."

"I've been punished, Fang – no, Clarke. I still am being punished. Don't you see? Anya – you – the both of you are making the same mistakes. Both of you will be punished for it, but this time the weight will be much more."

Some part of me was screaming at me to listen, but my anger had me too far gone to listen to the little angel in my head: the devil was much stronger. "Don't speak my name as if you have the right to! We left you behind the day you killed my father."

She fell silent, hurt pouring into her eyes, as she stared at me. There wasn't any hope for us, but she wanted me to believe there was. I knew that, she knew that, and yet some part of me still wanted to just hold her as if she was still family: still kin. Instead, there was a trampling of leaves behind a tree and Lincoln slipped out, effectively ending our conversation. My stare to my mother was cold as I turned my back towards her – grabbing my spear from Lincoln's waiting hands. I would show her just how useless her words were, and just how wrong she was. It was time to start a war.

"Lincoln. We have hunting to do."

_**A/N – Sorry if not that much seemed to happen in this chapter, there were a lot of ideas that I'm trying to work in. I just wanted to start introducing some more factors to the story that will work towards the main plotline. There's a lot of talking going on here in this chapter since I wanted to incorporate more dialogue in this story! Please let me know if it flows well. I've read it over a few times, but I don't have a Beta reader and there's a lot of things that I miss without an extra set of eyes. Thank you to all who updated, and to the guest reviewers that I can't reply to! I know that I should probably be self-motivating for my reason to write this story, but you guys make me feel excited that people want to read it!**_

_**A/N 2 – If anyone knows how to add page-breaks (the little line that spreads across the page), please let me know how to do it by pm or in the reviews! Thanks in advance!**_


	4. Chapter 3 - The Rebel Who Would Be King

**Chapter 3: The Rebel who would be King (I'll Follow You Down)**

_**A/N - Hey guys! Sorry that this took so long to finish, I have a lot of volunteer work that is really getting busy this month! I may not be able to update again for another 2-4 weeks, but I will try to work on the next few chapters during this time! I have them written, I just need to tweak them and add some more things to the chapters. In other words, I may be able to post a chapter during this time, but it's entirely up in the air. **_

_**Just a heads up, I recently joined archive of our own under redrosewolfess, so I may cross-post this story there. I haven't put that much thought into this yet, but if I do i'll let you know. If this story is posted anywhere else in the meantime, it defiantly was not by me (and I hope this never happens either). **_

_**Thanks to all of those who are reviewing, following, or even just reading the stories! It's very nice to see supporters here. A big thanks to MidnightPenguin for being my beta! I will never stop thanking MP for the plot ideas, grammar checks, and everything. ALSO! I heard that there might be some difficulties with reviewing this chapter, so I re-uploaded it...let me know in a message if this is still the case!**_

_**Let me know if I missed some grammar in here (or something ended up being wordy). As much as my beta and I check for them, there's always something that we can miss! **__** With that said, enjoy this chapter and remember to review and follow my story! **_

_****__**D**__****__**isclaimer: I do NOT own The 100!**_

_**~Redrosewolfess~**_

Bellamy's POV:

It's been one hell of a week since I landed on Earth with all the other kids. There's about 100 of us, give or take. With my sister, Octavia. She's alive and well – and that was all I cared about at first. I thought her years without me would have left her scarred and scared. She didn't even bat an eye when we landed though – probably because it's better for us down here. The brains of the ARK figured it would be a good idea to send all their kids down, because we sure as hell were doomed up there.

Life on the ARK was about as fucked up as it could get. Chancellor Markel, a woman who damned the lower class the day she wormed her way into the position. She might as well have been a demon in disguise when she walked around the underprivileged ARK citizens, looking at us like we were scum under her feet while the privileged thrived. Apparently she supported some fancy kind of economics where the rich stay rich with their 'esteemed' jobs while the poor stay poor. I would remember what it called, but it sounded like too much bullshit. The doctors, politicians, and commanders get the most oxygen while we, the janitors and low-ranking guards, get whatever's left over. It's never enough, even on a good day.

Then there is Vice-Chancellor Kane. One of the only guys from the Slums to have ever amounted to anything. Most of us think that Kane only became a politician because Markel needed our loyalty and cooperation. We were just a bit too wild for her tastes (if we ever asked her, she would probably say we were all lowlife druggies that could be like Kane if we put our minds to it). We won't trust Markel, but the Kane family is another story.

His Mom (Vera) is the head of religion around here – always tending to the last bit of Earth we still have: a small tree. When we were kids, his family taught the value of doing good – giving up some water to help out someone else. Her son, as a politician, has strayed away from that hope – not that we blame him. If we were around pompous stiffs and politicians all day, none of us would be any better off. We just admire him for even trying to do good for us, even if it never works out. There was only one advantage to being amongst the Slums: we were loyal to each other, and only each other. Information was fluid amongst us, but we put a lid on it if the wrong ears were listening.

The Kanes – and just about everyone else in the Slums – were the only reason why my sister stayed out of jail for so long. When our mother was floated (she prostituted herself to get us food), Vera became a second mother to O and I while Marcus acted like the older brother I never had. Together they looked after my sister while I worked to earn what I could for us during my 'day jobs' (more like 24/7) as a cadet in the guard. It didn't take long for me to become a poster-boy there for my 'hard work and honor' (as Markel said), though it was all an act: I did that for Octavia. So I could sneak out extra rations during the end of my shifts for her.

Life was hard, but it felt good to see my sister to have a glimpse of a real life, even if it made me want to punch everyone in the face. Especially when I saw the boys hooting and hollering at Octavia. Even more so when she flirted back with them. Naturally I tried to give O 'the talk', but it ended up being the most awkward minute of my life (it happened in the Kane's apartment, of all places). Vera took over the 'meaning of love' and safe-sex talk after that while Marcus tried to tune her out (and failed to stifle his laughter).

Apparently all the good things in my life had to end, though. All because Markel ordered an unannounced search of the Church while O was there: it didn't take them long to find out that my 16 year old sister was not a registered member of the ARK. All I know is that Atom tried to get her out of there, but he ended up jailed along with her for punching a guard. I was saved only because of Kane, who argued that I was "just coping with the problems that his mother passed down." My sister, and my best friend, were going to be floated at 18, and there was no changing it – like a fact written down in history already. It hurt worse that I couldn't even go see her anymore: they revoked my guard-status and did not permit any visitation rights for me. After that day, I never went back to the Church again (and the Kanes respected that).

Impossibly, time trekked on for months and months of this so-called life I lived. The ARK was a lot less lively now, as people only had fearful things to whisper about. Markel kept setting the Slum curfew earlier and earlier – dropping from 11pm to 9 and now to 5pm. It had been months since I saw a person out in the Slums passed 5pm (legally, at least). No one but 'important staff – like guards, janitors, and mechanics could move around anywhere – especially between the slum stations after curfew. None of this mattered to the privileged though, they didn't have the same curfews we did.

During the late night lockdowns, it was getting harder and harder to breathe; as if we were being choked off of the air we all needed. People worried about themselves and their families more than anything. Hell I didn't even blame them – everyone's been talking about how Kane and the rest of the council voted to decrease our rations. Kane, the guy who was standing up for us, even abandoned us. I bet his mother thinks she raised a shitty son, now.

After that the guards loosened their lips a lot more at night, and needless to say I started listening in on their conversations, hoping to hear at least something about Octavia. If I was being smart, I would have walked away and stopped listening – the screw in front of me didn't really need to be tightened anymore, but what else could they really do to me anymore? This time the guards were talking about some damage to the prison bay – the Sky Box – during the recent solar flares. Apparently they wouldn't let the prisoners out though, even if it meant saving their lives. They, including Marcus Kane, would just let em' die in there like expendable dogs to save their asses.

"Janitor Blake." I froze at the sound of an adult male voice behind me. Commander Shumway – one of the heads of our guard – sure had a lot of nerve to talk to me. He prostituted my mother, arrested her, floated her, and then jailed my sister and Atom before revoking my guard status. Yeah, he's my favorite guy up here. "Eavesdropping?"

If my voice wasn't livid, then I wasn't Bellamy Blake. "No _sir._ Just doing my duty." I gestured towards the screw and my wrench in front of me dully.

He paced around me – pausing for a second. The guards on the other side of the hall were at attention by now – watching and waiting for orders. Or just a good show, maybe. Shumway ignored my snark, but I defiantly wasn't getting off easy. "Come now Bellamy – we've both been around that block before. You know that I didn't want to hurt you back then – or your sister. Or your friend."

My head snapped at the mention of my sister: Shumway _would_ use her against me like that. "In all fairness – _sir _– I need to get back to work."

Shumway glanced to the other guards – dismissing them with a wave of his hand. They seemed reluctant, but left only a few seconds later – barely out of hearing range. Shumway wasn't well received around here, but he was their superior – they had to act like loyal dogs around him. "No need for hostility, Blake. Your mother was so good to me, I thought I would do you a little favor – a nice bit of information for you."

"What would be important enough for you to tell me?" I didn't like the look of the drunken grin on his face, like he was getting high off of my pain.

"Markel just told the real guards some great news. Those criminal kiddos are getting kicked out of here. They're part of some doctor's newest experiment. Radiation testing down on Earth. If they live, well then we'll be heading home. The ones who can pay their way down at least. Not you scum…but I might be able to swing something for my former prodigy!"

My eyes widened: his remarks made my muscles long to punch the shit out of him, but I would can it for now. Whether he was even serious and not just toying with my hope of seeing O again didn't matter: I would do whatever it took. "Name your price."

"That's what I like to hear. There's a drop ship heading down in twenty minutes with your sister and everyone else on it." He fumbled in his belt – grabbing a gun by its hilt – offering it to me. "You've always been a good shot, Blake. Kane's been back to his old ways – and he's threatened to do whatever it takes to stop the drop ship from launching. I need him dead."

I gritted my teeth – looking at him with anger in my eyes. I hated what Kane had become – but we still had a history. Could I kill him?

"I don't have all day, Blake. If you're going to do this, I've got to clear the drop ship area."

No time to have a moral debate with myself. "I'll do it." The gun felt a lot heavier in my hands all the sudden.

Kane was in the church when I finally found him in my guard's uniform – ironically enough. He held a little bottle in his hand, squirting little droplets of water into the small tree's soil. At the sound of my gun clicking, he turned around to look at me, eyes widening. Kane was afraid: and I hated myself already. One step forward was all it took for me to fire the gun – the bullet slamming into Kane's chest before he fell back – hitting the heavy metal table that the tree sat on with a thud. The last thing I heard from that room was the shrill scream of a woman (Vera – that was Vera's scream), the blood rushing through my ears, my footsteps carrying me further away from what I just did. For Octavia – I did it all for Octavia. Octavia was all I wanted to think about. I had to follow her down.

The next few minutes went by as a blur: I got into the drop ship without any challenge – Shumway had kept his word. "Good boy, Blake."

I didn't have time to even find O in the swarm of kids when I strapped myself down to the seat. My mind was still running wild with adrenaline as the doors shut. This was it: I had shot Kane – staining my hands with blood. The scene tormented my mind. Over, and over, and over again as Earth's gravity took hold of our pod – pulling us ever closer towards home. The Chancellor even graced us with her presence on the way down – giving a little message about how we were sent to Earth as lab rats for the ARK. About how the 'criminals' have wristbands on so that the scientists could get the data they need. Some kids rebelled against her even now: floating around the ship while others cheered them on. Those kids were goners, and we sure as hell didn't need stupid people down on Earth. As soon as we hit the atmosphere, the parachutes released and the pod slowed down so quickly that the kids flew into the walls. Dead, probably.

We were scrambling out of our seats after that – some checking on the kids (one of whom managed to live, somehow), but all I was thinking about was Octavia. I moved down the ladders faster then I should have, not caring who got shoved out of the way to do it. It was all worth it when I saw her, standing at the front of the drop ship – bewildered and shaken, but alive.

Until she saw me, amazement lacing her voice. "Bell – God, is that you?" My little sister's arms were wrapped around my neck. Strong, and the warmth in her eyes set my heart at rest. Not even the snickering kids could ruin my mood now (even if they thought we were a couple, as some found it appropriate to holler about).

"Do you mind? I haven't seen my brother in a year." Octavia's glare was fierce, and the kids shut up in a heartbeat at her gaze.

A grin spread wide across my face as I stepped back. "It's great to see you again. O…it's been too long." My hands grasped her shoulders, reassuring myself that she was here with me: alive after all these years. After all these years I still had her.

Someone had to ruin it though. "No one has a sister, dumbass."

Octavia started at them, fire burning in her eyes until a familiar face shuffled through the crowd "Yeah well – they're siblings alright. That a problem?" Atom. Our time apart had changed my friend, but there was no denying the happiness I felt about seeing him alive. We clasped hands firmly in a shake before grinning – punching each other on the shoulders (gently though, Atom was looking worse for the wear – skinnier than he should have been).

The kids stayed back as I grabbed the door's lock, grasping it firmly before turning to O and Atom. "Ready to make history?"

Her excitement was tangible as she spoke. "Ready." Atom's lips twitched into a smile, he was just as excited.

And with that I pulled the lever down, listening to the sound of gears grinding as the doors opened. The sunlight flooded the drop ship with light brighter and richer than anything I – than all of us – had ever seen. Atom and I stood side by side at the door as Octavia walked down the metal door, wary but brave, before pausing at the edge of the Earth and the last remnant of space. She looked back briefly before a playful smile grew across her face and then she jumped – landing on the Earth. Beautiful and carefree as she always wanted to be.

"We're back bitches!" Her screams awoke the energy in all of us as we ran – running to meet her on the Earth, Atom following behind her with a glee of his own. All the teens had that same excitement despite their thin, starved bodies…and all of them deserved better then what they had. I would make sure they got that life (a life that I will never deserve).

"We need to get our shit together." It was a simple statement, but it got everyone's attention on me. "It's been long enough since we landed here, and the ARK didn't send us with anything. Not that we're surprised, right?" That was something we could agree on, if the choruses of 'yeahs' and the looks of aggravation meant anything.

"And I don't know about you, but I don't want to live in that damn drop ship. The thing that the ARK abandoned us with!"

"No!" They were hanging on my words by now.

"We can take care of ourselves." I pointed to my wrist, where there was no wristband to be seen. "That wristband on your arm? It makes you a prisoner! Markel's prisoner! She's sitting on her throne, waiting to see if the lab rats die! She's one of the privileged, if they come down – she'll have it good. How many of you can say the same?"

"No-one!"

"How many of you are lab rats?"

"No-one!" "None of us!"

"Good! Gather wood, and bring it back here. We're going to take those wristbands off, and melt them!" The kids cheered and yelled at that, excitement burning in their eyes. Most of the kids were eagerly leaving in groups, but a group of 20 still lingered.

"Who says that we've got to listen to you?" The remaining crowd parted, revealing a black-haired guy shoving his way up here. Testing me.

"Everyone who deserves to be free."

"And if we don't want to?"

"Then you freeze to death while the ARK watches you die. Not much of a loss for anyone."

"Fuck no." He was up in front of me a few seconds later, swinging a punch my way. With a grin I dodged to the side before kicking his leg out from under him, knocking him to the ground. He struggled to stand but his leg had other plans.

"Get away from my brother!"

Octavia, rage written on her face, was stalking towards the boy but I raised my hand. "Wait." I tapped the boy's side with the toes of my shoe. "Wait, O. He's got guts, and we could sure use a guy like that to help run things around here. What do you say, kid? Let's start with your name."

The boy stood, livid and angry (limping, shamed, and wiping blood off his chin) as he glared at the ground. "Murphy."

I grinned at him – raising my hand out towards him. "Well Murphy – are you finished with your shit yet?"

He obviously wasn't, but he nodded, his grip obnoxiously tight as he 'shook' my hand. I'd like to think of that as a surrender, for now.

"Good. Make yourself useful, and collect wood." It was a command to all who were watching his little tantrum, and within a few seconds, they were all walking off into the woods. Murphy had stalked off after that to who knows where. Not that I cared.

After that bit of fun, it had been easy enough to gather a small group of guys (and a girl) that seemed bent on doing something productive too. Finn, who knew a lot about Earth skills, planned to hunt for animals, if any animals alive down here anymore. Monty was great with plants, and so he was going to try and find something that wouldn't poison us. I don't know if you could call Jasper productive, but he was hell-bent on making moonshine and God knows what else to get everyone drunk on.

Then there was Monroe, Miller, and Atom, who had been guards up on the ARK. Monroe had a certain fire in her, like subjugation wasn't her style. Not like the mystery girl from earlier, who was already being a kiss-up and hanging on my arm whenever she could (with minimal clothing on, I might add). Hell, I wasn't complaining. While Monroe and Miller were overseeing the wood gathering, I was in the drop-ship with the canoodling brunette, giving her _exactly _what she wanted (she was quite the suck-up).

All fun came to an end though, and the brunette kissed (more like sucked my face off) me on the way out of the drop ship. "See you tonight, sweetie." Her smile looked genuine, but it didn't reach her lust filled eyes. Surprise, surprise. I walked away without saying anything, indifference plastered on my face. I didn't care much for that one, even if she was responsible for my good mood.

Of course, though, my mood eventually went south when I found out that Finn was taking Octavia, Jasper, Monty, Atom, and some others on a 'fun' exploration trip. Octavia wouldn't hear any of my arguments about why she shouldn't go, and Atom had nothing to say about it really. In the end I settled for threatening to shoot Finn's head off if he hurt one hair on Octavia's head. Sure that probably pissed him off, but I was the one with the gun and he would have to deal with that. At least Atom swore to look after her, I owed him for that.

In their absence, things were only getting better. The kids were ripping off their wristbands excitedly under my watch: hanging on my every word about breaking away from the ARK that left them to die. All of us were free men and women now – we would do whatever the hell we wanted to do. Even Murphy and his little gang of 20 could keep calling me "King" with their sarcastic tones. Everyone else seemed to think that "King" was a great name for me, based on how everyone said it with respect. Murphy's gang would come around soon enough. Someone had to step up anyway, and I felt proud that I would be the one to do it. To keep us alive and to be better than the ARK had ever been. Marcus would have been proud of that, if he was still alive to hear the good that I was doing.

I kept myself busy by checking up on Monroe and Miller (and the gatherers) until Octavia returned – running and sweating with a panicked look in her eyes. Her leg was bleeding, and I was by her side in a second, my arms on her shoulders. I had to make sure she was alright. Atom, Finn, and Monty weren't far behind her, all of them nervous and fearful in their own way (afraid of me, I hoped). "O – What happened?" It came out as more of a demand than anything, but I couldn't help let worry slip into my voice. Maybe just a hint of anger.

Octavia brushed her hand against my shoulder, reassuring me that she was alright. "It's nothing Bell. Something – no, someone. Someone got Jasper! It killed him."

At the same time, Atom spoke. "She was attacked by a…thing. A giant snake in the water."

To top it off Monty was stuttering at the same time as them. "He's not dead." He paused at my glances between the three before clearing his throat, desperately trying to calm himself now that he could be heard. "Jasper isn't dead. I know it."

I glanced at Atom whose uncertain eyes told me everything I needed to know. Atom believed that Jasper might not be dead, but I was still skeptical. "We'll talk about this in a minute. Do we have a medic down here?"

A girl – brunette – stood in front of the crowd, glancing down at Octavia's leg briefly. "I don't know much, but I can bandage her."

She ignored me after that, already looking over Octavia's leg. Brave Octavia, who was ignoring her pains despite the gouges looking pretty deep. I distracted myself from her as I spoke to Monty. "What the hell happened?"

Octavia stared as Monty (was she worried?) continued on – containing his stutter as best he could. "Something speared him through the chest – but he was making noise. He was moaning in pain – I don't think he's dead. He couldn't talk if he was dead."

"So even if he's alive – you're telling me something speared him? Bullshit." It had to be a lie. What kind of animal could throw a spear except humans?

"Bullshit or not – we're getting a group together. We're going to find Jasper. And if we're not alone out there, you would need to know." Apparently Monty was adamant beyond all logic about this.

"So you're going to take my sister and get yourselves killed for a dead man. Do you think you can really go running around like that after the ARK starved you? No. You can't." Well that came out harsher than I expected.

Octavia scowled at me – folding her arms as she stood, before the medic girl sat her back down. "Bellamy, I'm going. We ate some berries. My leg's not that bad, and you can't tell me what to do!"

They ate god damn berries, she gets mutilated by some snake, and she thinks that everything's peachy keen all the sudden? I was about to protest until Finn jumped down from some tree that he was climbing. "Sounds like a party, then. If there's nothing out there, then there's nothing to be _scared _of. You have a gun, right?"

Atom seemed torn between Octavia and I, but I already knew he asking me to support her choice (because she wouldn't back down). Vera always did say that Octavia was a wild child, but a passionate one too. My mother would have told me to keep her safe from anything dangerous, even at the cost of my life. Even it meant giving in. So I relented, pinching the bridge of my nose before falling to Finn's taunts. "Yeah – I just hope we don't need it anytime soon."

If Octavia was going to risk herself, I would be there to make sure she would come back home. Always.

_**A/N: So there goes chapter 3 of the story! Review, follow, and favorite please! Feel free to message me as well :)**_

_**Until next time, bye bye! **_

**~Redrosewolfess~**


	5. Chapter 4 - With My Clipped Wings

**Chapter 4 - With My Clipped Wings (Getting Away with Murder)**

_**A/N**_

_** Sorry about the wait for this chapter! I was just absolutely pooped after my vacation, but I had a great time! I saw dolphins, more birds that I could say here, tortoises, turtles, alligators…gosh! The weather was a bit hot but near the ocean it was lovely! Anywho – this chapter isn't the longest thing in the world but I thought it was best to cut this one off here…please rate, review, and message me if you want! Thanks again to MidnightPenguin for being my beta! Also a big thanks to the reviewers and readers of my story! I love you guys :)**_

_**I also don't own The 100! Or the characters, except for the ones I made up!**_

_**~redrosewolfess~**_

_**Clarke's POV:**_

It had been hours since I left my mother and the time did nothing to distract my thoughts from her. Lincoln, who walked beside me, did nothing to stop them either. When my people had problems, we found our own ways to deal with them. By facing our thoughts and emotions, we became stronger. Better. Unfortunately for me, it didn't seem to be working. Physically, I was committed to Anya – but mentally? I was slipping; cursing that my mother could still work her way under my skin so easily. That she could remind me of everything wrong and shameful about me just by opening her mouth.

Mere months before I was born, the King of my people died. His name was Theodoric as a testament to his great power and strength. As he pledged himself to Abagail Griffin, two villages at war had come together under the name of the Griffin Tribe. They consummated their marriage soon after, giving birth to a pair of twins, the first one handsome and the second beautiful. As they cried under the morning's first light, they were named Anya and Ralen. The wise-woman in our village held young Ralen in her arms, a grave look in her eyes as she proclaimed his death, for he was weak and pale – his breathing slower than it should have been. Hours later, young Ralen's fate became a reality, and he passed silently in his sleep, held in the arms of his mother, leaving Anya to become the sole heir to the Griffin legacy.

That is, until I was born and the village looked on at me with delight at the promise of another heir. That is until my hair grew in: golden and blonde…and shameful, for the hair of Theodoric's family was a dirty blonde and brown at its roots. No generation of his lineage had anything but that hair, yet I had the golden locks of another man…of Jake Griffin. My rights to throne were deemed false, and many looked at me with shame. Only the children who did not know what "bastard princess" truly meant (and those who were simply ordered to be with me by the Queen) would associate with me. Becoming Anya's Champion meant so much more to me than a status. it meant the protection and love of my sister and the respect of the village that I always longed for. It also meant that an error on my part would see my downfall to nothingness. I would never become 'nothing' again.

I hardly noticed Lincoln staring at my glazed eyes before stepping in front and carving a path of his own while I followed blindly. For just a bit I had become a defenseless common woman as Lincoln looked out for me, the thought of which made my eyes smolder with frustration. How long had it been since I allowed myself a moment to reminisce about what once was and feel the burning madness that came from that past? I needed to forget, so I stalked off from Lincoln: crouching down to pick up the humans' trail. The broken twigs I found and the lack birds chattering in the woods suggested that the newcomers had tread through this area. Loudly. It was unlikely that they were clever enough to be laying false tracks to catch us off guard, but I would not make such an assumption without more proof. Proof that could be twisted to prove they were a threat to us, which would hardly be in short supply after today.

Lincoln caught up with me a few minutes later. "They're heading towards the mountain. All the signs point that way." It was all very matter-o'-fact, as if he was not even struggling to find evidence of their travels.

"Which means that they likely do not know of Earth's survivors." It made my life a lot easier, but I couldn't shake the unease building in my gut (courtesy of my conscience). _Don't think about them. Just think about Anya, the tribe, and yourself – for once. _ With a deep breath, I vowed to forget about my regrets…for now.

"When we find them, drive the others away – spread a boar's blood between here" - I tossed a canteen of blood to him - "and the clearing. They will need a clear trail most likely if they are to ever find him…and Lincoln – "I paused, glancing at him from the corner of my cold eyes. At the very least, I could do this alone…even if the war would drag him down with me eventually. "This is my duty. I won't make you follow me down this road."

Lincoln had never been a truly close friend of mine in my youth, but I always recall his ability to look at someone and know what they were thinking. My emotions had never been an exception to his perceptions, for better or for worse. Worse right now, because even as I asked him to leave, there was nothing more that I wanted then someone to do this with me. After staring at me for nothing more than a second, Lincoln scoffed at me, raising an eyebrow as if to call me a fool. I only hoped that his loyalty wouldn't get him killed – or worse – anytime soon.

Time passed and we eventually found the sky-people near the river, still making no attempts to hide their presence in dangerous lands. Had they still not seen any of the dangerous creatures that this world held? The way they were preparing a vine to cross the river suggested otherwise. If this was true, then they may be able to adapt to threats and changes very quickly. Such an ability could trouble my people if they should find a way to adapt to our war tactics. Or simply make their deaths a better sport. My hands would bring about the start of this 'amusing' sport, and I would take credit where credit is due (even after death, when I receive judgment). Once I had vowed to accept the sins of only my sister once death claims me, but now I only hope that I can do the same for the village.

Lincoln moved away silently and I readied my arm – the spear tight in my grasp before I locked my eyes onto my target. The black haired boy stood on the other side of the river – waving excitedly at his friends that whooped and hollered at him. That is, until I threw the spear. It slammed him with such force: pushing him back into the tree as it pierced his flesh – just shy of his heart. The others had ran in fear – eyes wide and terrified, looking for me – the predator hiding in the deep woods. Now they knew just what was coming for them: survivors in this world and I – the one who will become death.

The climb down from the cliff was uneventful as the wounded boys' friends had abandoned him. Left him to die alone and cold. I grabbed hold of the thick vine, tugging on it before jumping across the waters until I landed, a small cloud of dust rising at my feet. The boy was far from a warrior: skinny but tall with a small river of blood trickling from his body (even our own blood abandons us when we need it most). For a spineless boy, he possessed some strength: his brown eyes were sweeping over my mask as if dazed by the sight of it. Maybe he wondered what I was – if I had a real face under that mask…and if I had a soul there as well. Bastard children never had souls to begin with, so why did I feel sorrow in my heart? _Pathetic._ Anya would say I am pathetic.

His limp body dragged behind me – over the sharp rocks, pointy sticks, and the uneven grounds of the mountain. Blood streaked behind us, leaving a trail that would attract animals eventually to feast upon fresh meat. The boy was delirious now: begging for mercy and release from the pain as shards of rock dug into his flesh. As he lost his precious blood and suffered more and more with each passing moment. Each cry dug its way into my heart, asking me why I was doing this to an innocent boy. It was times like this that I willed myself to shut him out: focusing on each foot to reach the clearing between their camp and the mountain itself.

I told myself that dragging him was slowing me down when I began to carry him, but I knew that it was a lie. Even though I reached the clearing faster, his moans of pain never stopped. They would never stop. No one in my tribe ever forgot their first human kill if they were lucky enough to have one. It was an honor from Anya, yet even now I still felt nothing but shameful punishment…and what better place than here to be punished?

The center of the clearing held a great tree – or at least a once great tree. It was said that that when the tribes of our Earth first met in a council of peace, it was at this sacred place. The tree has long since rotted away – its five-pointed red leaves never growing again, but we still see its own kin left behind. This was once a place of peace, but just as the times have changed; we have changed. Our dead are burned here. We sacrifice food and our possessions here, all in the hope that others are granted a better life in the future. To make promises and commitments to our hearts and futures. The criminals see their punishments here, above the bodies of our dead who stand to judge them and all that they have done.

His body is strung up on the tree – vines coiling around his wrists, hips, legs, and ankles: leaving all the wounds I gave him on display. The bleeding has slowed from his chest wound – but he won't have long. Infection and blood loss will plague his life unless he's treated, the medic side of me notes. With one last stare – I glance at his half-closed eyes: as if he is willing himself to stay awake. To stay alive. Briefly I step closer to him – slipping the bone mask off my face resolving to keep my emotions away – to not feel sorrow for the dying. All I'm reminded of is my father – and how I wish there was time for goodbyes. The strain the memory leaves in my voice is bittersweet as I crouched by the boy's side.

"Give in and your pain ends. War is coming, tell your people." I paused, glancing back at him over my shoulder, a sliver of sorrow escaping from me. I almost hoped he could see that sorrow. Almost. "Just…don't die." I walk away after: not looking back. There was never any going back to begin with.


End file.
